


Future Imperfect

by wowbright



Series: Glee Season 6 Episode Reactions [14]
Category: Glee
Genre: Episode: s06e08 A Wedding, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Process Fic, Relationship(s), Reunions, Romance, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 10:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3443249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wowbright/pseuds/wowbright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I woke up way too early on Wednesday morning, unable to fall back asleep. So I wrote a fic that explored what might have happened after Blaine’s break-up with Dave in “Transitioning” (6.07) to get Kurt to the point where he’s ready to get back together with Blaine in “A Wedding” (6.08). Thanks to anon for prodding me to think about the details; redheadgleek for offering an important plot point; damnpene, nachochang, chiasmuslovesme and judearaya for handholding; likearumchocolatesouffle for SPAG and wisdom; thetalkingmalibustacydoll for enthusiasm about Blaine and awkward-but-heartfelt safer sex talks; scalpelsarefun for enthusiasm about safer sex talks in general; and lizinprogress for not being satisfied with what she got.</p><p>Also on <a href="http://wowbright.tumblr.com/post/112172202125/fic-future-imperfect">tumblr</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Future Imperfect

When Kurt finds out that Blaine is no longer dating Karofsky, his first instinct is to grab Blaine and kiss him until one of them is pressed against a wall and both of them run out of breath.

Unfortunately, he and Blaine are sitting in the middle of the Lima Bean. So Kurt suppresses the instinct.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt says. “You’re living together. That can’t be easy.” Kurt speaks from more experience than he wishes he had.

“Actually –” Blaine furrows his eyebrows. “It kind of is. Relatively speaking.”

“Oh?”

“I mean – I’m sorry I hurt him. But I’ve just been sleeping at my mom’s house, so that’s okay. And Dave and I are both on the same page about it. I think both of us knew deep down that it wasn’t going to be permanent. So it’s not as hard to let it go.”

“He’s okay?” It’s not an easy question for Kurt to ask, but he asks anyway. He cares about Blaine, and Blaine cares about Karofsky. So Kurt cares, too, even if it would be simpler not to.

“I think so,” Blaine says. “I guess I can’t really know. But he already has a date for Friday, and he’s signed a lease on a nicer place that’s closer to campus with a couple friends from his team. He’s pretty resilient.”

“Good,” Kurt says, and means it. It’s the only thing he ever truly wished for Karofsky.

“The thing is –” Blaine hesitates. He pulls the lid off his coffee and stirs in a packet of sugar. He takes a deep breath as he sets the lid back on. He looks at Kurt – hesitantly at first, just a glance. Kurt doesn’t look away. And when Blaine’s eyes wander back, they stay on Kurt. “The thing is, Kurt, looking back – he knew from the beginning that I was still in love with you. That I would never stop loving you. He understood it better than I did.”

Kurt really could kiss Blaine then, but he’s too disoriented, like the floor just dropped out from under him. So all he can come up with is, “Oh.”

“I know I still have a lot to work on,” Blaine says. “I guess we both do. But I hope – I hope there’s still a chance that we, maybe, when we're both ready –”

“There is,” Kurt says. “There’s … a big chance.”

Blaine’s face lights up in a smile. He’s the most beautiful thing Kurt has ever seen. Always will be.

* * *

Kurt’s proud of how adult he’s being about everything. He and Blaine are taking things slow – there’s been no kiss since the one at Rachel’s party, no grand reunion.

They’ve agreed to keep being friends for now. Blaine was right: they both have so much to work on. They need to learn how to talk to each other openly, and how to listen, and how to fight fairly.

They go back to their Dalton routine of meeting up at the Lima Bean most days after school. They talk about the latest issue of _Vogue_ , swap stories about the kids in their show choirs, and flirt in a way that isn’t subtle to anyone but them.

They take turns paying for each other’s drinks. “It’s nice to see you guys back together again,” says the cashier, whose name Kurt should probably know because he worked with her for a while. “I always thought you were a sweet couple.”

They don’t correct her. They just look at each other and blush.

* * *

“Have you decided what you and Walter are going to wear to the wedding?” Blaine says as they peer over his iPad together at the Lima Bean, scrolling through runway pictures from the most recent fashion week.

Kurt nudges Blaine with his elbow. “I’m a bridesman just like you, remember? Those suits were decided eons ago.”

“Of course I remember. I just thought you might do something with your accessories to coordinate with him. You have a way of making everything your own.”

“I guess it would be fun to dress him up,” Kurt says. “And we’ve talked about maybe going together. But I don’t know. He doesn’t really know anyone, and Britt will keep taking me away for last minute stuff, and this might be the last time in forever that so many of the old New Directions get together. So maybe it would be nice to spend the wedding with you and … the rest of the gang, you know?”

“Oh,” Blaine says. “That makes sense.”

They go back to looking at the runway pictures. Their feet touch under the table, then their knees. They sit like that for the rest of the afternoon: side-by-side, their lower legs pressed together. Neither of them acknowledges it.

* * *

Blaine and Dave find subletters within a few days of putting the word out. “It’s a miracle it happened this fast,” Blaine says. “I really should be grateful. But –” He breathes out a heavy sigh and stares longingly at the half-eaten snickerdoodle at the center of their tiny table.

Kurt nudges it toward him. “You can have more,” he says with a fond smile. “I won’t feel deprived.”

Blaine takes a sip of his coffee. “I’m trying not to stress eat.”

“Well, then.” Kurt pulls the plate back to the table’s center. Kurt’s not going to pressure him into something he might regret, but it’s still within Blaine’s reach if he decides he wants it after all. “Talk to me about your stress. If that would help.”

Half the tension melts from Blaine’s shoulders. “It would.”

It turns out the subletters want to move in a week from now. Blaine has no idea how he’s going to have all his stuff moved out by then when his week is crammed with Warbler rehearsals, planning a new set list, and leading a two-day staff training on Dalton’s improved gender non-discrimination policy.

“You’re _leading_ the training?” Kurt enthuses. “You didn’t tell me that.”

“Oh,” Blaine ducks his head and blushes. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s a _huge_ deal, Blaine. I’m not even _invited_ to most of McKinley’s staff meetings. They barely tolerate Rachel and me eating in the staff break room. And _you_ –” Kurt’s so overwhelmed by the flood of emotions that he’s momentarily tongue-tied.

“What?”

Kurt reaches across the table and gives Blaine’s hand an appreciative squeeze. “I just – I’m so proud of you. All you’ve ever wanted to do is make art and help people. And you’re doing both of those things. Right here in Lima. You don’t need June or NYADA to make your mark on the world. You’re going to do it no matter what.”

“Kurt, I –” Blaine looks down at their joined hands. “Thanks, Kurt. That means a lot to me.”

 _You mean a lot to me_ , Kurt wants to say, but he’s already skating so close to the edge. “I’ll help you pack. If you want the help.”

“I’d love the help. If you’re – are you sure?”

Kurt lets go of Blaine’s hand. “That’s what friends are for.”

* * *

They’re surprisingly good at friendship under these circumstances, but there are still moments of awkward.

Like the afternoon that Blaine walks Kurt out to his car and instinctively kisses him on the cheek as a goodbye. Which actually wouldn’t have been awkward at all if Blaine hadn’t realized right in the middle of it what he was doing. “Oh god,” Blaine says, pulling away faster than a runaway train. “I’m sorry, I – You have a boyfriend, and I –”

“It’s okay. You have nothing to apologize for,” Kurt says, though what he wants to say is, _Don’t stop. Please. Don’t ever stop._

There’s the afternoon at the Lima Bean when Walter happens to stop in for an americano. He spots Kurt and Blaine sitting at their usual table and waves, then steps over for two minutes of chitchat before moving on with his errands. Blaine and Walter are impeccably gracious with each other, complimenting each other on their jackets and ties. Kurt feels guilty anyway, like a kid who’s been caught with one hand in the cookie jar and the other in the cake box.

And then there’s the evening when Kurt is over at the apartment helping Blaine pack. While Blaine cleans the refrigerator, Kurt’s boxing things up alone in the bedroom. It isn’t nearly as difficult as one might think – in fact, it’s not difficult at all now that the bed is out and any of Karofsky's stuff is packed into nondescript boxes in the living room. It’s just Blaine’s clothes, Blaine’s hats, Blaine’s keyboard, and Blaine’s adorable bric-a-brac. (Kurt has missed Blaine’s grand piano jewelry box more than he likes to admit). And Blaine trusts Kurt with all of it.

Kurt’s sitting on the floor next to Blaine’s closet, halfway through Blaine’s polo collection when he hears the apartment door swinging open and Karofsky’s voice, “Hey, I came by to get a couple of my boxes. I hope that’s okay.”

The refrigerator door thuds shut. “Sure,” Blaine says warmly, but not too warmly for Kurt’s comfort. “Everything’s where you left it.”

“Great! Oh, and there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“I’m not sure now’s a good time.”

“Don’t worry, it’s quick. It’s just that I went to Planned Parenthood for my screening – I mean I know we were safe and everything but I figure it’s good to stay in the habit, right? Anyway, everything came back negative, and since I haven’t been with anyone but you since I got tested three months ago, well – I just figured you’d want to know, for whenever you have the sex discussion with Kurt. If you haven’t had it already.”

“Oh.”

“Are you okay? Wait – don’t tell me he turned you down.”

“Um. Kurt’s in the other room. He came over to help me pack.”

There’s a long silence. “Oh,” says Karofsky. “Awkward.”

“Yep.”

Karofsky peeks his head through the bedroom door. “Hi, Kurt.”

Kurt stands up. He’s almost as tall as Karofsky now – or at least not as terrifyingly small as he used to be – and it feels better to look him in the eye, no matter how uncomfortable that might be. He’s reassured by the fact that Karofsky looks as uneasy as he feels. “Hi  –” Kurt stops himself, swallowing the “Karofsky” he was about to utter. The least he can do after getting a peek into Karofsky’s sexual history is use his first name, if only this once. “Hi, Dave. Congratulations?”

Karofsky chuckles.

* * *

Karofsky is gone as quickly as he arrived. Kurt hums "[My Favorite Things](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0IagRZBvLtw)" to himself in an effort to forget the whole thing happened.

But then Blaine’s in the bedroom, lowering himself to sit on the rug next to Kurt. “Part of me feels like I should apologize for that,” Blaine says.

“You don’t have to,” Kurt says, his eyes focused on the polo he’s currently refolding to fit more snugly into the box. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know,” Blaine says. “That’s why it’s only part of me.”

Kurt looks up then. “Because your tendency to apologize too much is something you’ve been working on with your therapist?”

“Yeah.”

“Funny,” Kurt says, reaching tentatively for Blaine’s hand. “I’ve been working with my therapist on my tendency to apologize too little.”

Blaine takes Kurt’s hand in both of his, settles them into his lap. “We’re both works in progress.”

* * *

Later that evening, they stand next to each other in the foyer, neither of them quite ready for Kurt to leave. On Kurt’s part, it’s nearly impossible to take another step toward the door – not with Blaine looking at him the way he is.  Blaine hasn't mentioned the word “love” since that first afternoon at the Lima Bean, but Kurt can see it written all over his face.

 _We’re both works in progress_ , Kurt repeats silently to himself. They’re not ready to get back together yet. There’s still so much work to do.

Kurt gives Blaine a quick hug and turns to open the door.

“For what it’s worth,” Blaine says behind him, “I went to Planned Parenthood this week too and got the same results as Dave. In case you wanted to know.”

Kurt turns around. The knob is in his hand, the door already several inches ajar. Kurt can’t say he _didn’t_ want to know, because he did. So he just stands there with his mouth slightly agape, trying to figure out the appropriate thing to say when your not-exactly-boyfriend presents you with that information.

“I’m sorry,” Blaine says, blinking nervously. “Or not sorry, but … I just made things awkward again, didn’t I?”

Kurt has the urge to kiss Blaine. It’s the only way Kurt knows how to speak to Blaine sometimes, the only way he knows how to tell him everything will be okay.

But Kurt’s made up his mind. _We’re not ready yet._ “Maybe a little awkward. But just because something’s awkward doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be said.” He clears his throat and wishes his skin didn’t reveal his blushing so easily. “I should probably get tested, too. Where’s the clinic?”

“There’s one over by the college campus. Here, I’ll write down the address for you –” Blaine snaps into helpful mode, sprinting the three steps to the kitchen to grab a piece of paper from the notepad on the side of the refrigerator.

“Or –”

Blaine turns around. “Yes?”

“Would you mind going with me? You know how I am about doctors.”

Blaine gets that look on his face like he’s the most honored human being who ever lived. “Sure. Tomorrow's Wednesday right? They have a walk-in Wednesday afternoon.”

“Okay, then.” Kurt realizes his hand still hasn’t moved from the doorknob. He’s been fidgeting with it this whole time, twisting it on its spindle even though there’s nothing to latch it into. He doesn’t let it go yet. “Meet you at the Lima Bean at our usual time? I’ll help you with more moving stuff after?”

Blaine stands straight as a soldier, nods his head. “See you then.”

* * *

Three days later, Kurt is sitting in his room on a Skype session with his New York therapist.

He’d tried finding a new therapist when he first came back to Lima, but it didn’t work out. He ran into the same problem with them that he runs into everywhere: he has a hard time trusting people, even when he’s pretty sure they deserve it.

For some reason that Kurt can’t quite articulate, Kurt trusts Michael, the therapist he found in New York. Maybe it’s because Michael kind of reminds Kurt of his dad – if his dad dressed better, spoke with an abrasive Massachusetts accent, and had a PhD.

Kurt is halfway through a monologue about a recent disagreement with Brittany over last-minute wedding decoration changes when Michael stops him. “You know, it’s strange,” Michael says. “You’ve talked for 10 minutes already and you haven’t even mentioned Blaine. Usually you’ve mentioned him at least once by now. So I’m wondering – should I view this as progress, or avoidance?”

Kurt looks away from the screen and stares at the tree outside his bedroom window. Most of the leaves have turned brown and fallen off by now. The only color is a dusky red cardinal flitting from branch to branch. “Both, I think.”

“I’m not saying your relationship with Brittany isn’t important, or that planning her wedding isn’t important,” Michael says. “I just want to make sure that’s really the main thing on your mind. Because a lot of what you were saying – am I reaching if I say it sounded a little rehearsed? Like maybe you thought it all through before our appointment so you wouldn’t, you know, accidentally start talking about what’s actually worrying you right now?”

Kurt did, indeed, write down a list of talking points last night before he went to bed, after he got off the phone with Blaine. But it wasn’t as conscious an avoidance as Michael’s implying. It’s just that everything’s happening so fast, and nothing’s happening at all. Kurt’s not sure what to say.  

“Blaine’s not worrying me. Everything’s fine with us. We’re – You remember he broke up with his boyfriend, a couple weeks ago, right?”

Michael nods. “You mentioned that. You also mentioned he’s still in love with you. Are you still in love with him?”

Kurt looks away from the screen again. He looks for the cardinal, but it’s gone. “We’ve been hanging out. Not dating. We’re still both … works in progress. I don’t think – we’re not ready for a relationship yet.”

“No?”

Kurt shakes his head.

“But you’re ready for a relationship with this new gentleman? Walter?”

“Walter’s not – that’s not really a relationship. It’s pretty low key.”

“Does Walter know that?”

Kurt nods. “I don’t know if he’s thrilled with it, but he knows.”

“Okay. So tell me about not wanting to be in a relationship.”

Kurt tells Michael about the past week, and the bits of the week before that he didn’t mention in their last session. He tells him about how friendship is working so well with Blaine: coffee at the Lima Bean, helping Blaine move, the awkward conversation after Dave left that maybe wasn’t as awkward as it should have been. He tells Michael about walking back out to the waiting room after his STD check and how, before Kurt even said anything, Blaine smiled at him like he was the most precious thing in the world – like the results didn’t matter to him at all.

"Wait. You and Blaine _went on a date_ to go get tested for STDs?" says Michael.

"It wasn't a date.” Kurt rolls his eyes. “He was being a good friend. He would do that for anybody."

“Kurt,” Michael says sternly. “You're not acting like someone who doesn’t want to be in a relationship with Blaine right now.”

Kurt snaps at him. “It’s the right thing to do, to wait until Blaine and I both have our lives under control. Until we’ve both figured more out.”

“Ah,” Michael nods. “There’s that word again, ‘control.’ I knew it would come up if we talked about your relationship with Blaine long enough.”

“What? You’re saying I’m still trying to control everything?”

“Not everything. But a lot.”

Kurt shakes his head. “That’s not it at all. I’m trying to learn from my past mistakes. Not rush into things. We’re still working on things. There’s so much I need to learn before –”

“You’ll always be a work in progress, Kurt. And it’s fine if you want to wait. Admirable, even. I just want you to be sure you’re waiting for the right reasons. Because waiting until you’re perfect – that’s not the right reason. You’re never going to be perfect, Kurt. Neither is he. You’re never going to fit perfectly, either. You’re still going to miscommunicate, you’re still going to argue. The only thing you can hope for is that you’ll do it less, and that you’ll do it more kindly. That’s what you can hope for, that’s what you can _work_ for, if you want to be with him. If you don’t want to be with him, then keep striving for perfection. Perfectionism is a great way to avoid – well, just about everything. But especially reality.”

“But I don’t _want_ to avoid reality. That’s what I did for most of our relationship the first time through. Kept pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t, pretended Blaine was fine when _he_ wasn’t.” Kurt rubs the back of his neck. “Pretended I knew what I was doing.”

“So why are you still pretending?”

It’s all so clear to Kurt now, what he’s been doing for this entire week. What he’s been doing ever since he  came back to Lima. “You know, I can’t remember the last time I told him that I loved him. I think it might have been when I was breaking up with him but … maybe it was before that. I don’t really know.”

“Do you want to tell him?”

Kurt nods. “I’ve wanted to tell him ever since I got back to Lima.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I think I thought – I don’t know what I thought. There was Karofsky, and then – I guess I’ve been waiting for the perfect time. But there’s not going to be a perfect time, is there?”

“I think you know the answer to that already, Kurt.”

* * *

If it were perfect, Kurt would have planned this.

He would have worn the perfect brooch and practiced a song to sing – probably “I’d Rather” by Luther Vandross, but he would have found a simple piano-and-violin track to sing it to rather than the over-produced background from the original.

He wouldn’t have told Carole and Burt, “Sure, I’ll be fine without a car today.”

He would have worn blue socks.

He would be able to pull himself together, to take the route to Blaine’s apartment step by slow step, instead of hurtling forward so fast that the spine of his shirt soaks through with sweat.

He would have planned a speech – something about what Blaine means to him: Sunlight and shadows. The breeze against his skin. Music. Breath. Risk. Courage.

Kurt would look serene and collected and certain when the door to Blaine’s apartment opens. He would calmly hold out his hand and say, “Blaine, we need to talk.”

But it’s not perfect. Kurt is a wreck. He’s nervous and scared and the words in his brain reorder themselves into sentences that don’t make any sense.

Blaine opens the door. His eyes go round when he sees the condition Kurt is in. “Kurt, are you okay?”

Kurt could say something profound here, something about how he’s pretended for a long time that he’s always okay, he’s always in control, he always knows the next step to take. He could say how terrified he’s been of Blaine finding out Kurt doesn’t know what he’s doing. He could say how terrified he’s been of finding that out about _himself_.

He could apologize for the wounds he’s inflicted on them both, tell Blaine exactly what he’s doing to make sure the future is better.

It would be perfect to say all those things. But Kurt isn’t perfect. His imperfection is all he has to give.

“I’m not okay,” he says, grabbing onto Blaine like a liferaft. “I love you. I still love you.”

Blaine’s eyes go wider. Kurt keeps talking. He’s not even sure what he’s saying now. He knows what he _wants_ to say, and the words he’s spewing are roughly related to that, but they’re also frantic and ill-formed and not quite right.

“There’s no one else,” Blaine says, the words weighted heavily like a promise, and then lips and _oh_ Blaine, his Blaine, the Blaine he’s never stopped wanting since that day on the staircase – back in his arms. Blaine pulls back just enough to whisper. “It will always be you.”

“I love you,” Kurt says, kissing Blaine again. There’s so much more to say, words like _I’m sorry_ and _I’m trying_ and _I’m a rough draft._

No moment allows him to say everything he needs to say.

So Kurt does what he can. “I love you more than I ever understood.” They aren’t perfect words, but right now, they’re what he needs to say.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like songs, maybe you’d like to listen to Luther Vandross’ [_I’d Rather_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7wlDKqCVhLE%20%20https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bwU7gRXwpto)and imagine Kurt singing it in the shower.


End file.
